Corruption

by Jessica Shirvington

  Mom stared as me, tears streaming down her face. She still wanted to argue. ‘You’re my baby girl,’ she whispered. ‘I’m the one who’s supposed to protect you.’

  I nodded. ‘There’s no better protection for my heart and mind than if I know you’re safe. It will give me the strength I need.’

  ‘I’m going to get us a set of wheels,’ Sam said. He stood behind Mom and placed his hands gently on her shoulders. ‘This time we’re going to trust Maggie. She’ll get to us when she can.’

  Eventually Mom nodded.

  I stood up and Sam pulled me into a hug. ‘I wouldn’t be letting you do this if I didn’t … Let’s just say I’ve learned a lot about my little sister by being out on the streets the last month looking for you.’

  I nodded into his chest, moving back for a little space. I could only imagine the things he’d heard.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Mags. For everything. I’ve been the world’s shittiest brother.’ He dropped his voice so only I could hear. ‘I’ll get Mom to safety, but then I’m coming back for you. Do you understand me?’

  I threw myself back into his arms and shook my head. I didn’t want him to come back. I was a lost cause.

  He pulled me tighter. ‘Get word to me when you can.’

  I didn’t respond, too afraid the ache in my chest might turn into sobs if I opened my mouth. Too afraid I might plead with them to take me with them. So instead I stepped aside and let them go.

  Three

  Obsessing over your failures is a slippery slope into self-pity-ville.

  As much as I wanted to free-fall, I couldn’t. I needed to find Quentin. I needed to know he was alive. Was free. I needed to see his steel-blue eyes as they met mine. And the only place I could think to start was school. If I was lucky, maybe I’d find a lead.

  I was weak, both physically and mentally, but having a task helped keep me together, and there was no time to rest. M-Corp guards could show up at any moment to take me away again, and right now I wouldn’t be able to stop them. I needed to start rebuilding my strength. I already knew there was a chance I was going to have to go back into the tunnels to break Quentin out, and that meant being strong, fast. And smart.

  If I found nothing to work with at school, I would try to find Sebastian, Quentin’s brother. It was a risk, but the one time I’d met him it had been obvious he cared about his brother – and Quentin always spoke well of him. I had to hope Sebastian wasn’t as cold-blooded as his father and that he wouldn’t want Quentin locked up and wasting away.

  The bus ride was worryingly short, and as I stepped off, I wondered if I’d slept or even been passed out for the majority of the journey. But the most surreal thing was walking through the front doors of the school and drifting down the corridor with swarms of my fellow students. I’d been locked away for over a month, had been on the brink of death, had discovered life-shattering truths, but here … nothing had changed.

  A few people gave me a curious second glance. Perhaps because I’d been missing for weeks or, more likely, because I was emaciated and probably still looked half feral. When I reached my locker, I took a few deep breaths and closed my eyes. The sounds, the smells, the movement … It was overwhelming my senses. I was dripping sweat and breathing way too fast. My M-Band was continually vibrating, alerting me that something was wrong – as if I wasn’t already keenly aware. I’d learned enough about myself over the past couple of years to know I was verging on a full-blown panic attack. And I also knew that couldn’t happen. I needed to keep focused.

  ‘Maggie, good to see you.’

  I jolted at the sound of the too-close voice, my eyes springing open to see Morris Delaware standing beside me. His locker was two doors from mine.

  ‘Hi, Morris,’ I said, trying hard to control my breathing.

  He looked me up and down, his eyes flittering beyond me a couple of times. ‘I’ve missed seeing you around the halls. Not to mention in the gambling ring.’

  I licked my dry lips and shrugged. ‘Been kind of tied up lately,’ I said.

  He studied me with obvious concern. ‘Well, you take things easy today,’ he said with a gentle smile.

  I nodded and stepped back to encourage his departure.

  He glanced at me one more time. ‘I like the glasses. They look good on you.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I muttered, adjusting the light-activated lenses. They weren’t as effective as the sunglasses, but Mom had given them to me before they’d left so that I could keep them on during class.

  Once Morris had walked away, I concentrated again on my locker. I took a deep breath, shoved a handful of chocolate-chip cookies into my jacket pocket, and collected my books.

  Bags weren’t allowed in the classroom.

  I gave myself a pep talk as I made my way to my first class. The time for feeling sorry for myself was over. My father was lost to me. All that mattered was getting Quentin out. I would make sure he was safe. Then he could either finish me off or cut me loose.

  If he let me go, I’d leave. I’d do what I could to set things right here and then find somewhere I could melt into the background – somewhere that hopefully wasn’t too far away from Mom and Sam. It would never be safe to actually live with them again, but I’d stay as close as I could. I would become a better person, just like I’d always planned.

  It would be my penance.

  I would become someone actually worthy of him, even though I’d never see him again. Never have him. And never love another in a way that could ever compare.

  But in order to enter my self-imposed exile, I had to first ensure he was alive and safe.

  The bell rang and I sighed. I’d wanted to get to class early to start asking people about Quentin, but I’d had to sit and rest a few times on the way, which slowed me down.

  I took my usual seat in English Studies, turning to Gabriella beside me. She was finger combing her cropped, platinum-blonde hair.

  ‘Hey, you haven’t heard anything about Quentin Mercer lately, have you?’ Okay, so I wasn’t good at small talk. And I wasn’t subtle.

  Her eyes widened and she leaned a little closer to me, assuming a pitying expression. ‘Not today. But then again, it is just the start of the day and with him, you never know.’

  The way she said it …

  ‘Hey,’ she said, adjusting her white tank top, which barely covered her not-at-all-subtle fluorescent orange bra. ‘Haven’t you been away recently?’

  I relied on old tricks to keep my breathing as even as possible. ‘Has he … Has Quentin been at school lately?’ I asked, ignoring her question.

  Gabriella nodded. She opened her mouth to say something, then bit her lip.

  ‘What?’ I prompted, still trying to process the earlier information.

  ‘Sorry to hear about your break-up.’ She looked me over. ‘They can be rough.’

  My eyebrows shot up in surprise. I wasn’t sure what part of that to grab onto first: that she had seen Quentin, that she knew we’d broken up, or even been together in the first place, or that she thought my current physical state was the result of a pining heart?

  Gabriella leaned forwards, speaking quickly. ‘With the way he’s been acting …’ She cringed. ‘You’re probably better off without him.’

  ‘Acting?’ I asked.

  ‘Ah, you know …’ she said, nervously glancing at my M-Band.

  I nodded, wetting my lips briefly. I got it now. ‘He’s turned his Phera-tech on.’

  She shuffled closer. ‘Don’t worry, though. I don’t believe the rumours.’

  Great to know. ‘Rumours?’

  ‘That you knew there was something up with his tech and so you told him you’d sleep with him as long as he kept his tech turned off.’ She made a show of rolling her eyes, while studying my reaction closely.

  ‘Wow. That’s harsh,’ I said, drumming my fingers on the table, trying to get my head around everything, including this latest titbit that apparently I was a slut. Brilliant.

  ‘Not as ba
d as the others,’ she mumbled.

  ‘Others?’ I asked, knowing I’d regret it. But there was a reason I’d chosen to sit next to Gabriella. She had no filter between her brain and her mouth.

  ‘That you were trying to lure him into marriage because you were after the Mercer fortune.’

  ‘Oh. That.’ Correction. I wasn’t a slut. I was a money-digging whore.

  After that informative little chat, I was quite sure I was in the wrong place. Quentin didn’t need me at all. He was just fine. He’d been at school, with his tech on, spreading ugly rumours about me while I’d been locked away. I knew he hated me, I just hadn’t really allowed myself to accept it. I’d been too obsessed with the thought that he was locked up like I had been.

  I shook my head at my own naivety. ‘He’s a Mercer, Mags,’ I whispered to myself. Of course he hadn’t been locked up.

  I started to collect my books, determined to get the hell out of there, only to find my legs suddenly cement-heavy and my eyes glued to the classroom door.

  Quentin had just strolled into the room with Ivy Knight on his arm.

  He was dressed impeccably. More so than I’d ever seen him before. One of the things that had always drawn me to him was that even in his best clothes he managed to keep things just a little off-kilter. But not today. In his suit pants, crisp blue shirt and perfectly knotted tie, he looked very much the young Mr Mercer. He was surrounded by friends greeting him, girls kissing him on the cheek and guys slapping their hands in his. All the while, Ivy stayed glued to his side.

  Quentin was smiling and, at first, I was so relieved he was safe that I was smiling too. He seemed genuinely happy and relaxed and … My smile quickly fell away. I swallowed nervously, waiting for him to see me, for the inevitable moment when our eyes would meet. I knew I would see so much in that moment.

  But it never happened.

  He never once even glanced in my direction. He had to know I was there, but he didn’t look. It was as though I’d never existed.

  He didn’t care at all.

  My eyes started to well up and I knew, despite my uncooperative legs, I had to get out of there.

  What had I been thinking? That he actually needed me? Would want me to come anywhere near him after all that had happened? My chest tightened and my throat closed. But just as I started to force my body to cooperate, two guards walked into the room and my blood ran cold.

  I held my breath, expecting them to charge in and rip me from my chair. But, like Quentin, they didn’t even look my way. In fact, they moved so discreetly that none of the other students appeared even slightly surprised by their presence.

  When Quentin took his seat at the back of the room and one of the guards took up position behind him, the scene suddenly made sense. They were here as his security.

  Keeping my eyes trained forwards was almost impossible, but I did it. Why did Quentin have bodyguards? Was it for me? Did they think I might try to hurt him? I would never …

  I heard the sound of his laughter and couldn’t help but sneak a glance over my shoulder, then wished I hadn’t. He knew I was there. He had to. But with Ivy sitting close and looking into his eyes adoringly, he hadn’t once turned in my direction.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Gabriella whispered, leaning towards me.

  I kept my head down and gritted out, ‘Fine.’

  ‘Must be really hard, huh?’ she added. Man, she had no tact at all.

  I took a deep breath when the teacher walked in and started the class. There was no way to escape now without drawing every pair of eyes in the room and I wasn’t about to do that. I slumped down in my chair and told my heart that it could take it. Of course, if my heart could talk back it would’ve told me to eat shit and die. At least then I could’ve responded that it was no more than my stupid heart deserved. And no more than Quentin was entitled to dish up.

  I heard Ivy giggle from the back and closed my eyes tightly for a few beats.

  When Mr Ferris turned to the whiteboard, Gabriella leaned in again and rolled her eyes. ‘They’ve been like that for the past two weeks. It’s sickening.’

  I swallowed over the lump in my throat. ‘I take it they … rated?’

  She nodded. ‘They sure did. Apparently their original rating was incorrect. Some computer glitch or something.’ She leaned back in her chair just as Mr Ferris turned around.

  So that’s how they had explained it all away. A glitch. You’d think people would ask more questions, but most are too preoccupied with themselves to worry about anyone else. Even so … they had to have some way of making sure the tech didn’t get the blame. M-Corp would never let that happen.

  How could he not even look at me?

  I shook that thought away just as the door swung inwards and Headmaster Edwards walked in with two uniformed police officers.

  I suppressed a groan. Coming to school had been a bad idea. Of epic proportions.

  Mr Edwards addressed the class. ‘Students Bennett, Mercer, Knight and Stevens, your immediate presence is required in the school hall.’ He gestured to the policemen. ‘These men will be escorting you.’

  ‘For what, sir?’ Nathan Bennett asked from the other side of the room.

  Mr Edwards shot Nathan a disapproving glance. ‘You have all been requested for an interview and retesting of your Phera-tech.’ Mr Edwards all but rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t look so petrified, Bennett. There was a problem reported with your original uplink equipment. This is simply procedure.’

  I collected my books and watched as Quentin stood confidently, taking Ivy’s hand. They appeared to be pleased with this turn of events. Probably expected it. Nathan looked worried he might be about to lose the status he’d only so recently begun to enjoy.

  Me?

  I was sure my expression exposed nothing. But this was bad. And I was fairly certain this was also the precise reason I’d been let out of that prison cell. They knew I’d try to find him. And worse, Quentin would have known it too.

  As we walked down the hall, I was surprised to see Quentin whisper something in Ivy’s ear and then let her walk on as he turned to me. His eyes were all steel as he glanced first at his bodyguards and then at me. But only for a split second. Then his eyes settled on anything but me.

  When he spoke, his tone was as cold as his glare. ‘You’ll end up exactly where you’re destined to. I can promise you that.’ I flinched, but he continued. ‘I just want you to remember, no matter what you think you know, and after all you did …’ He leaned closer and pointed first at himself and then to me, his voice lowering. ‘I know that you know. And that is all that matters.’ Without another word, he looked ahead and sped up, retaking Ivy’s hand and ignoring the tears in my eyes.

  Could he be so cruel as to throw that back in my face? My heart ached so much I had to fight not to clutch at it. That was how he’d told me he loved me. How he’d explained that he had to say it, so that, no matter what, he would know that I knew how he felt.

  Was it possible that that was still the case? I thought about it for a few steps, but I couldn’t for long. Couldn’t allow my mind to be weak again and tell me things that were not true. The look in his eyes had been answer enough. No. This was not about love.

  Just the opposite.

  ‘Miss Stevens, do you have any relationship to Mr Angus Reynolds?’

  She’d been asking me questions for the last forty minutes. Each of us had been allocated one of the interviewers that had been set up and waiting with a small tech team in the assembly hall. I’d been lucky enough to get the one whose black hair couldn’t be pulled back in a slicker bun and whose condescending tone made it clear she’d already reached whatever evaluation she was supposed to be in the process of making.

  None of the questions really bothered me, but I wasn’t a fool. I knew they’d get here eventually. Gus had been the technician on that day and they had obviously made the connection.

  I maintained a blank expression. ‘Yes. Gus and I worked together. We have for the pas
t year at the M-Store in Clarendon.’

  ‘Do you have any contact with him outside of work?’ she asked.

  Other than having blackmailed him on a daily basis? I would have preferred to lie, but right now that wasn’t an option. I was connected to a truth zip. An accessory used by law enforcement agencies and others to monitor truth. They were extremely accurate – creating a readout that was produced via the pulse-rate monitor on my M-Band and the earphone my female interviewer wore, which was connected to the mic they had clipped to me. If I lied, my voice would distort through the earphone and sound much higher. Truths were delivered at a lower pitch.

  ‘On occasion. Why?’

  The woman didn’t answer. Funny that.

  ‘Have you seen Mr Reynolds lately?’

  I held back the hollow laugh. Gus was so far out of this city I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d crossed an ocean to get away from me. ‘No. I’ve been a little cut off from the world the last month.’

  She glanced at me, her eyes narrowing. ‘In what way?’

  I shrugged. ‘I’ve been suffering and sick at times. I feel like I’ve been locked away in the dark for weeks.’

  The woman made a note and went back to her list of questions.

  ‘Your father is a neg, is that correct?’

  ‘He produced that rating, yes,’ I replied, taking my time to think through each question before answering. One thing I knew for certain was that this was a game, and I was not in good game form.

  ‘Were you ever concerned that you might … follow in his footsteps?’

  I couldn’t hold back the frown. ‘I hate my father. I’ll never follow in his footsteps.’ And yet, even as I said the words, memories of my deceptions plagued me. Had I not been just as terrible? Lying and cheating people in order to serve my goals? Had I not screwed up Quentin’s life in order to get what I wanted? I hated my father, but I hated myself just as much.

  The woman nodded and typed something into her computer. Finally she glanced back up at me, adjusting her glasses and pursing her lips. ‘On your testing day, you claimed that you had an eighty-two per cent rating with Quentin Mercer. Is that correct?’